Just Another Slayer
by Brittathebest
Summary: This is part 1 and takes place after Buffy has gone. Spike has been sent out to scour the country for new slayers. Set a few years after the season 10 comics, it references events that occurred in all series. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon and his associates. Note: This story starts with the introduction of a new character, but after part 1, she appears only sporadically.


"Just Another Slayer"

* * *

This story takes place several years after Buffy has gone. Spike has been sent out to scour the country for new slayers. This is also a story about what's like to be a newly called slayer. Set many years after BTVS, ATS, and a few years after the season 10 comics, it references events that occurred in those series.

* * *

She was awake. Maybe not for the first time. There were times in her life when she suddenly felt awake, her heart racing. It started when she was a kid. She would stare at a tree outside her window, and it needed to be climbed. The fort that had to be built in the woods no one knew about—the one had to be built when her mom drank. She was locked in her overbearing dad's house in high school, and then she suddenly needed to go for a walk at night, and he didn't understand why. But tonight, she needed to get up and get out.

There were signs. Lately, there were signs. Sometimes, she would stare at the moon in the icy skies from her kitchen window, and she wanted to feel it outdoors. She had been waking up consistently at 2 am for the past few weeks, and trying to read herself to sleep. Her Kindle would shine into her eyes until she fell asleep again at 3 or 4 or 5 am.

 _It's okay_ , she would think. _I don't teach this semester, and I'm not taking a morning class_. She would work diligently throughout the day in her quiet house, writing her dissertation, compiling statistics, organizing her data, and assuring her friends and advisors that she was making progress on her doctorate degree. The graduate student parties she attended became less and less frequent. And over the years, she felt less active, and she noticed the added weight on her skeleton. Sometimes, she would have a glass or two of wine by herself to pass the time until night arrived when she felt alive. She brushed it off as a side effect of studying a nocturnal animal for her research.

Tonight was different. Suddenly the moonlight seemed brighter. The trees seemed alive in the Minnesota winter wind.

And she needed to run up a hill.

Her cats blinked as she arose, pulled her red hair back into a braid, walked to her closet and dressed in a t-shirt, exercise pants and a pullover. She pulled out her old running shoes and felt around the insoles for an excess of dust.

When she walked outside into her full-moon-lit backyard, a stirring of energy took hold of her chest, and she burst into a run. Like a race horse released from the starting gate, like a wolverine that suddenly picks up on the scent of a distant carcass, like a flock of sparrows fleeing from a hawk through a thicket, her energy was released after years of waiting.

Night after night, for months, she awoke, dressed, and launched into this display of increasing strength. She ran down the hill of the small bluff by her house, and then back up. The clear skies and Great Horned Owls were the only witnesses to her transformation. After the first couple of nights, she found herself searching the internet for stretches that preserved her knees and shins. She should stop or at least slow down, she thought. This can't be good for her 40 year-old bones.

But she couldn't help it.

The old distractions fell by the wayside – the glass of wine, the tv binge-watching, the sudden need to bake a cake to devour by herself. All gone. She didn't fully understand it. But, it seemed to scratch an itch that had been burning for a long time.

But to what end?

One night, she dreamt of the cornfields surrounding her small town. In the moonlight, the wind seemed to move the desiccated winter stalks more than usual. A trembling footstep revealed a ghostly creature approaching Vermillion, the ironic name of her small town.

When she awoke at her usual 2 am internal alarm, she knew the hillside runs were over.

The hunt was on. A new slayer had been called.

She didn't know what she was when she arose, dressed and sprinted down the hill toward the edge of town. She just knew she had to be there. The fields in the winter were dark with rich soil, corn stalks strewn across the ground from the fall's harvest. A solitary cow chewed around the corn remains for an occasional kernel.

Margot took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She felt its presence before she saw it stumble across the field. It was a man unlike any she had seen before. It was a little weak. Like a newborn calf searching for milk from which to feed, the creature approached the cow.

Margot was many yards away from the animal and the approaching man. Something is wrong with this man, she thought, and she drew back and cringed. His clothes were disheveled as if he had slept for days in them. His skin was pale and clammy. His eyes were yellow, and his forehead bones protruded like a man starved.

Somehow she knew this was no disease, this man was a monster. Something in Margot's gut kicked in. She launched herself across the field. The winter wind cooled her skin as she picked up speed. The moon became brighter, and her heartbeat became slower and stronger. Her mind cleared. When she tackled the creature, she was unaware what she would do next. Her only thought was to stop the creature before it reached the cow. Her nails dug in. In an entire body hug, she and the creature barrel-rolled over and again across the cold winter field.

The creature's face was so close to her, and she winced at the sight of its feral grimace. Its eyes travelled down her neck as they grappled. Its long fangs drew closer as its strength outmatched her own. _It wants to kill me more than I want to kill it_ , she briefly thought.

Then her adrenaline surged. She pulled its head back, inch by inch. The creature rolled again and wrapped its arms around her neck while pressing its weight into her. She felt herself sink into the frozen soil, as its thirst surpassed her strength.

 _No_ , she thought. _Not now_ , she thought.

With another surge of adrenaline, her hands around its head gripped tight, and her arms burst with a surge of strength. With one gasp, she twisted its head off in a sudden snap.

Surprised at her own strength, she huffed at the cloud of dust that descended upon her. There was nothing else left of the creature.

The cow blinked and snorted at her from several feet away. She lay back down on the cold earth and stared up into the winter moon, silently gathering her breath.

* * *

For months, this went on. Night after night. Creature after creature. Sometimes, she ran off into the cornfields, closed her eyes, and felt a solitary creature searching for blood, eyes yellowing with thirst. Sometimes it was a pair stumbling through the woods, newly awoke.

She didn't know what they were or where they came from. So, sometimes, she stopped when there was a pair or a small group. They spoke in low, hungry voices to each other, trying to suss out why they were this way.

"I just woke up in the ditch by my truck. I think I hit a deer. I don't know why, but I drank from it. And now I'm here."

"I feel so alive. You have no idea what it's like attached to an oxygen tank, waiting to die. But here I am."

One night she came cross a trio of these creatures, drinking from an opossum under the bridge down the hill from her house. One of the creatures stood up, tossing the carcass aside and declared: "You are vampires! Search for blood in the night, and you will feel alive again – better than alive!"

Margot rolled her eyes as she listened to the group discussing the glory of this blood lust. She was tucked behind a stand of cottonwood trees around 3 am, trying to figure out how to kill three of them at a time.

She had only killed singles out on their own. Besides the first one in the cornfield, there was the one behind the dumpster at the sports bar, the one stumbling around the fraternity party drunk on 18-year-old blood, and the many solitary creatures stumbling around the fields and woods down the hill from her house.

 _They must be coming up from the countryside_. From what she gleaned, they died alone in car accidents along the highway or in their farm houses. _Who would miss them?_ It would take awhile for someone to check on them. Then something happened, they came alive and stumbled to town drawn to the larger groups of people and animals from which to drink. _But what made them this way?_

 _The 'messiah'_ , she wryly thought, this ridiculous creature spouting here under this bridge seemed to have the answers.

"I brought you here. Here where it's all going to happen for the glory and the blood."

The two creatures dressed in denim, camo and cowboy boots stared up into his face, rapt with attention.

"Soon, my friends, we will have what we have craved in this desolate land. Search for blood, my friends, take what you need, then offer your blood. Let your meals become what you are. Creatures of the night!"

Margot listened intently, and then slowly backed away.

 _What is this? I don't know that I can resolve this. Sure, a creature here and there._

Fear took over, and she backed away. She couldn't take a group that could easily surround her. Moreover, there was something going on in her town that she didn't understand.

Alone, she sprinted back up the hill through the trees to her home. Panting, she locked the door swiftly behind her.

The weeks passed. At night, she became stealthier. When there were two or more of these creatures, she would quietly back away before they detected her. When there was one weak creature fresh from death, she would pounce quickly and snap its neck before it could find this weird "messiah" under the bridge she now stayed away from.

During the day, she would go to school, and her friends would ask her how things were. She would laugh, crack a joke. But, she had no idea how to tell them what she knew. And they would watch her stalk away, puzzled over her subtle transformation into someone with an increasingly darker sense of humor.

* * *

One night, she came upon a group in the woods feeding on a dead teen girl. She hid behind a tree, trying to decipher how to attack.

 _I can't dismiss a group anymore. There seems to be more of them lately, and I can't ignore it._

She sighed, overwhelmed, her hands clutching the tree.

Then, a burst of black shot through the group of creatures and landed in a pile of dust. One creature had died in the initial attack, and a man now stood among them.

"Step on up, kiddies."

The man in the dark jean jacket and combat boots with the working class British accent beckoned to the group.

The three remaining creatures' eyes yellowed and a growl issued from them.

The man, surrounded, paused, pulled out a cigarette and a Zippo from a pocket, and smirked at them.

"C'mon, newbys, come at me."

They rushed as one, fangs out. And in a flurry of movement, the man whirled with a stick. Three pillars of dust suddenly rained down around him as he lit and drew deeply from his cigarette.

The creatures were gone.

Margot drew back, ready to back away and sprint home again.

Before she managed to turn fully away, she was interrupted.

"C'mon, love, I won't hurt you."

She paused, staring at the moonlit shadows at her feet. _Was he speaking to me?_

She froze, hoping he couldn't see her.

The footsteps approached. The combat boots were next to her feet in the snow, and she looked up into the man's blue eyes. The man threw down his cigarette, stamped it out, and a hint of a smile passed over his face.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

"What? Dust those four? Please, that was easy. What's difficult is what's to come."

The man in the jean jacket stepped back and appraised her with his eyes.

"You'll need some trainin'. But you'll do. A little jujitsu, a little karate, some practice with a stake, a crossbow and an ax, and yeah…" He paused, passing his hands through his dark curly hair, looking back at her. "You'll do."

"For what?"

He smiled. "You don't know? You're a slayer, Margot. One girl in all the world with the strength and speed to... only you're not the only one." He paused; his eyes shifted to the ground, searching his pockets for another smoke, his mouth crumpling in consternation. "Not anymore, anyway."

"What's a slayer?"

He smiled. "It's a long story."

* * *

The pair walked up the hill, pausing as the man slowly explained.

"What are these creatures?" She asked.

"Creatures? No, love. They're vampires." His eyebrows crinkled as he scoffed. "Haven't you ever watched a monster movie? Bela Lugosi? Gary Oldman? Frank Langhella? Jack Palance?"

"Of course! I always preferred David Bowie and Catherine Deneuve. What? They're real?" She stared back at him under a lamppost in the dark as he pulled deeply on his smoke, and then blew out sharply through his nose in irritation.

"Yeah, vampires are real!" He snorted. The man paused, closed his eyes, lost in thought. "Oh, if only Catherine Deneuve was a real vampire."

He suddenly remembered where he was and turned back to Margot. "Not that I'm into vampires. Anyways, there are a lot of mystical things only children in their nightmares could dream up. Just catch up, will you? I have a lot of information to impart."

 _This man is awfully impatient_ , she thought.

"Look. I came here because there seems to be a mystical convergence of these 'creatures'." An eye roll accompanied her word. "They seem to have stumbled into your town. And yeah, they're just fledglings, for the most part, but soon, they'll get older, wiser and stronger. You're going to need to know more than how to sneak up to them all Gollum-like and snap their neck."

"Wait, have you been watching me? How do you know this?" She stabbed her finger into his chest.

His eyes followed her hand, smirking, nonplussed by her attempts to intimidate him.

"Yeah, look, we've been watching you. Try not to get all high and mighty for mo', take a breath and listen to me."

"We?"

"Yeah." He paused, searching for the words. He started more deliberately, almost abashed at what he had to tell her. "I'm part of a council of watchers looking for slayers in towns where vampires are gathering. There seems to be an awful lot of them around this area lately, and we're trying to figure out why."

She fidgeted, looked away, and then started, "What I do know is that there's this 'messiah' vampire that is telling these, what – fledglings – that more is to come." She told him about the incident under the bridge.

"So, let's go!" He turned on his heel, heading purposefully back down the hill.

"Wait."

"What?"

"There's too many. For me, at least." She turned, looking back up the street to her house.

He looked back at her.

"Ok. I get it." He slowly walked back to her. "Let's start again." He blinked and spoke slowly to the tense woman under the lamppost. "Margot, my name is Spike. I'm here to help." He held his arms out and gently placed his hands on her arms. "Tomorrow night, we'll start your training. And soon, a group like that will be nothing to you. You are a slayer. You are stronger than them, stronger than most anything. Hell, you're stronger than me."

She balked, sliding her arms out from under his gentle grip, and wrapped her arms around herself.

"You don't believe me?" His eyes under his lashes still sought out hers.

She turned her head away.

"Push me away."

"What?"

"Push me away," he insisted. "Look, I'll lock my knees. I'm a few inches taller than you, I have more muscles, but still, you are stronger than me."

He placed her hands on his chest. "Push," he said.

She winced, and then pushed.

"More than that, love."

She glanced into his eyes, fear taking over.

"Yeah, that's it. Let it happen."

She closed her eyes. She didn't know why. She should flee this man she didn't know that could spin and kick at the same time. This stranger that spoke to her at 3 in the morning.

But something told her. _No, not now._

Then a slow rush of adrenaline took over, as she slowly opened her eyes and pushed.

His legs fell out from under him, and he landed hard on the ground.

He smiled up at her. "Next time, you're going to make me fly through the air, love."

* * *

The next night, she stood under the lamppost at 2 am. He slowly approached from the dark, a cloud of smoke billowing behind him.

"I need to know something."

"Yes, love?"

"How can you do what you do? Take on four vampires?"

He flicked his cigarette away further than she'd ever seen anyone do this.

He paused, looking into her eyes. "You understand that you're stronger than me, right?"

"Yeah."

"This is important, because what I am about to tell you…"

"You're a vampire."

He snorted. "Well, yeah…"

She stretched her neck and sighed, looking back at him.

"I don't know what to think about all this. I do know that I need help. It's hard to ask for help, but still I need it. And you're it. I don't know who else to ask."

She looked back up her street to her house, and then turned decidedly back at him. "I know that you are it, and I can't help but do this thing. Is there something wrong with me?"

His eyebrows dropped, and his head tilted slightly. "Absolutely not."

He sighed and continued. "You're right. I am a vampire. I have known a few slayers. More than a few, and some more than others. But I know them well. More than most vampires do."

She sighed, _I have to get some work done tomorrow, and I don't have time for this._

"Look. I am a vampire, to answer your question. I have super-human strength, like all vampires. But here's the important part. You also have super-human strength, and, like all vampires, you have a little demon power in you. Except yours was imparted by the original watchers back in the old days. But you, unlike these poor sods," he grimaced and leaned his head back down the hill toward the bridge, "have a soul."

"And you?"

"I'm different. I fought for my soul."

"So, you are the only vampire with a soul."

"Well, there's another, but he doesn't really count. He was cursed with a soul, like it's a punishment. He'll never know why he really needed one. And so, he'll spend eternity contemplatin' all the bad things he's done."

"Look, that's great and all, but I've got things to do tomorrow."

"Right."

And so their training began. They found a field far from the road where he began showing her some of the moves, spinning kicks, proper handling of weapons, and such.

And over the weeks of training, her dreams became more vivid. She started asking more questions.

"So, Spike?" They stood in a prairie under a full moon, he was paused to strike again, and she was paused to deflect.

"Yes?"

"Remind me all the ways to kill vampires?" She closed her eyes. "The heart, the head, stab the heart, cut off the head, only way to be sure…"

He slowly lowered his fists. "That's slayer talk." He paced away. "You're having the dreams. Of course, you are. Why wouldn't you?"

He started to gather his weapons.

"What?"

"Slayer –" He stopped and winced. "Margot, I think we're done for the night. You have schoolwork tomorrow. And I have some calls to make. Besides, I have an errand to run."

"Errand?"

"Yeah, you know where to find a butcher? I'm running low on blood."

"Jesus, I never thought about it." She laughed.

"Yeah, well, there aren't a lot of stores to choose from around here."

She looked puzzled.

"I can be fine on pig's or cow's blood. I don't need a blood bank."

She nodded, relieved. "Yeah, we have two grocery stores, and I think they get their meat from large shipping centers where meat is already butchered, processed and packaged without blood."

She started walking back to town, thinking. "But you are in the heart of cattle country. There's a shit-ton of slaughter houses around here."

"Yeah, but they don't exactly have an outlet store."

She thought for a moment. "No, but if you call them up and act all hipster-like, and ask for a weekly amount of blood for your artisanal blood sausage business with your best British accent, they might bite – so to speak."

"That's a Scottish thing, love."

"What, biting people?"

Spike rolled his eyes.

"Look, I notice that you use 'love' when you're being condescending …anyways, offer them enough money and they won't give a shit." She smiled over at him as they strode toward town. "You have money, right?"

"Yeah, the council has investors now."

"Investors?"

"Yeah, Kennedy's company makes use of the slayers and gives them a salary when she has a job for them. In exchange, the council does some research for her company."

"Kennedy?"

"Yeah, you're a fan of these one-word questions. It's a long story, but the short of it is that Kennedy is a rich slayer that deploys slayers around the world when outbreaks of vampires and demons arise. It's a win-win-win situation for the council, Kennedy's company, and the developing countries that seem to attract the blood-thirsty element."

"But you're in Minnesota..."

"Yeah, it's a long story."

Margot sighed. _There was so much to know._

* * *

Margot and Spike looked down from the hill near her house, watching the herd move closer and closer to her town.

"You ready?"

As an answer, she sprinted down the hill, the vampire close behind.

Over the next few hours, they ran across the plain, taking out vampires one or two at a time, never breaking formation, lest they be surrounded. They had to have each other's back or the vampires would overwhelm them, fledges or not.

It had been weeks of training, but when Spike met her under the lamppost that evening he asked her, "Are you ready to take the training wheels off?"

She swallowed and nodded solemnly. She knew when the jokes were over. And when she saw the horde making its way toward them, she knew that there would be no further instructions. She would have to fight side-by-side with him.

Spike knew that as long as they methodically did this, they would be ok. They had already slaughtered the 'messiah', as they laughingly called him, weeks ago. But, this was nothing compared to the many Turok-khan that erupted from hell all those years ago in Sunnydale, only because they both survived the night.

Slowly, they trudged back up the hill to their lamppost as the sunrise approached.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Where do you do go during the day?"

He frowned, shifting the ax from one shoulder to the other. "I have a van parked on a side street."

"Every day you sleep there?"

"Yep." He wondered why she asked.

"What, so you sleep in subzero temperatures in a minivan?"

"Nah, it's an old van with two seats and a lot of storage space. And I don't have a problem with temperature. And neither do these fledges that come out of the woods." He thought for a moment, then quickly added, "But it's not a mystery-mobile for a bunch of Scooby detectives, if that's what you're wondering."

"I hadn't—"

"Because that would be ridiculous."

"Uh, yeah, it hadn't occurred to—"

"I don't know anyone like that."

"Yeah, again—"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, Spike, it's just that this is a small town where people ask all kinds of prying questions just to make conversation because there's nothing else to do, and the cops know everyone, and well, they might start wondering about your van."

"Yeah?"

"So, I'm just saying, you might start parking in the same spot every day, just to avoid suspicion. Or, you could just park your van in, er – my garage. That way you know the cops won't be knocking on your windows when you're trying to get your beauty sleep."

"That could get a little dusty."

"Look, we've been fighting together. And if you're going to be my sensei or whatever, you might as well have some place to rest."

"Fair enough, slayer," he winced at the last word.

Margot glanced at him and then pointed the way to her house.

* * *

Margot was diligently working during the day to stay caught up on school work, but the hordes were getting more frequent and bigger every night. And she was tired. Long ago, they had decided that there had to be a 'messiah' in every town. Moreover, the dreams were getting more vivid, and she was becoming more restless.

"I've been talking to the other slayers," Spike said as they trudged up the hill one night.

"Yeah?"

"And our vampire numbers are greater than others'. So, something is happening here. The council doesn't know what, though."

Despite being bone tired, he still managed to pull deeply from a cigarette.

"Who are they, anyway? This council." She glanced over at Spike.

He paused. "Look, I haven't known them for very long. Not in vampire years anyway."

"Vampire years?"

"Well, you know how every human year is 7 years to a dog? Well, I have lived a long time, and I've only known them for 15 years or so."

"I don't know what that means. How long?"

"What?"

Margot stopped under the lamppost to catch her breath and looked Spike straight in the face. "How long have you lived?" _God, I've known this vampire for a month, but I really don't know that much about him and this council. So, help me, if he says-_

"It's a long story."

Margot punched him in the shoulder. It was harder than she intended. So, she was surprised when he flew through the air.

"Told you," he growled from the ground, several feet away.

"Fuck you, Spike," she muttered, holding her hand out.

Once he was back on his feet, she walked several feet in front of him for several blocks before he replied, "It's a long story for a reason. This isn't an easy story to tell – how I know these people, and what I've been doing for over a century. Also, we haven't had a lot of spare time for bedtime stories, what with these fledgling herds."

"So, start..."

And so he began. He started, as all good stories do, at the beginning. He told her of his life as a human, his mother, how he met Cecily, Drusilla, the slayers, and all the women in his life and unlife until he came to Sunnydale. Night after night, as they trudged back up the hill after killing their horde o' the day, he told her another chapter. There was a lot to tell, there was a lot of gore, he had been on this planet for over a hundred years, and a lot had changed. Months went by.

Still, Margot wondered, _who is this council, and how did he know them if he spent so much of his undead life as an evil soul-sucking demon?_

Needless to say, Margot was pretty patient with demons.

* * *

"Dammit!" Spike was swearing in her garage at 2 in the morning.

"What's wrong?" She asked as she walked in, holding her axe, stowing a few extra stakes in her belt.

"The fridge is on the fritz in my van. Makes sense, the van's getting pretty old. I bought it used from a witch whose werewolf guitarist boyfriend scampered and ditched it at a port."

Margot glanced at the van's blackened back windows. "Why don't you just keep your blood in my fridge? Wait – there are witches and werewolves?"

"Yeah, it's a lo—"

"Long story, I know." She pointed the way to her house.

She walked in and started clearing a shelf for the tubs of cow blood in her fridge.

She glanced back at the doorway. Spike lingered there.

"You know I can't come in until you invite me."

"Right." She grimaced. "Come in, Spike."

After crossing the threshold, he unloaded the pile of blood buckets into her arms so that she could dump them into the fridge.

"The other nerds aren't going to notice the blood when they come over for a party and want to stow their cheap beer in your fridge?"

"I think the vampires, or whatever people want to think is going on in this town, are making people change. I don't hang out with the other students much anymore. Too much back-biting and gossip."

"Yeah, magic will do that to people." He paused, looking around. "You have a lot of space for a lowly graduate student."

"Rent is cheap in Minnesota. At least, in comparison to where I've lived."

"Yeah? Where's that?"

"All over. Texas, Wisconsin, west coast, Europe." She smiled. "I've even lived in London."

Spike strolled around, glancing at the art, the record collection, the photographs, the books, and the tank in the middle of her living room. Expecting some tasteful tropical fish, he was surprised to see a small snapping turtle dozing at the bottom of the tank.

"His name is Steve McQueen. He was known as an escape artist at one point."

"Yeah?"

"It's a long story."

Spike smiled at Margot.

"He seems a little lethargic," Spike observed.

"Yeah, it's winter. He's a reptile. There isn't much for him to do. It's colder, and the other turtles he would be mating with are also lethargic. He doesn't eat much. He sits at the bottom of his tank and slows his respiration. If he had things to do, he would come up for air much more often."

"Like a vampire."

"Yeah, he takes his rest when he can get it."

"But it's not cold in here. How does he know it's winter?"

"Because the daylight is shorter."

"Leave it to a biology grad student to—" Spike cut off and stared at the turtle.

"—to what?"

"That's why the vampires are coming north. How many hours of daylight do we have now?"

"Uh, I guess 7 am to 5pm…"

"And during the summer?"

"Hmmm…6 am to 9pm?"

"Yep." Spike smiled.

"But that only explains the northern hemisphere. Why here, and why now? They could have come here any winter."

"I know, but it's something for the council to start researching." Spike walked outside to the van, opening a door. Margot followed, curious. She peered inside, and saw for the first time his living conditions. A pillow, a sleeping bag, and a small suitcase open to display several black t-shirts, a red long-sleeved shirt and a spare pair of black jeans – these were the only items lying on the shag carpet in the back of his van, now that his minifridge was outside by the garbage can. He sat next to something she hadn't seen before - a long duster, a leather coat hung with care from a wooden hanger along one wall - and pulled out a cell phone.

As they strode down the hill, Spike chattered on his cell phone, something Margot hadn't witnessed before. He had alluded to phone calls he needed to make, but they were done out of earshot, and er, eyeshot of Margot. And right now, he was explaining his latest hypothesis to the person on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, Red, I need to find out what makes this place special. Tell Giles…Yeah, I know, but he has that set of books that Wesley used to have at Wolfram and Hart… And at the very least, these herds are getting unmanageable…Well, I know Kennedy's slayer squads are spoken for, Dawn and Xander are busy with their squads in Africa, and I would rather not deal with Andrew no matter how many slayers he has…"

Spike paused, kicking at some frozen ice on the sidewalk. Margot searched his downturned eyes, trying to make sense of these names and places.

After listening to this Red talk for a while, he seemed resigned. "Fine… talk to Angel, if you have to…Only if he brings Faith. I don't think he's any good without her _calming_ influence," he added wryly.

"Right!" He said as hung up and stuffed the phone back into his pants.

"What?" Margot was completely mystified by now.

"Our witch, Willow, is coming with the other soulified vampire, Angel, and the last of the original slayer line, Faith."

"What?" Margot stupidly repeated.

"Long story."

"Gotcha."

And then they got back to work. At least for that night.

* * *

Margot ran down the gravel road, her feet digging into the soil, leaping over icy puddles. The moon was high, and she streaked across the night, leaving cold billows of air in her wake. She lowered her eyelids and slowed her breath, extending her senses. Her eyes popped open, she cut straight right, landing lightly in the ditch, and leaped high over the barbed-wire fence.

She felt it in this field. A new burst of energy took over, and her speed increased across the cold soil, dried corn husks beneath her feet. She spotted it, running north, parallel to her former trajectory. She angled toward it, picking up a new speed, and took a tighter grip on the stake in her fist.

The creature glanced at her, intent on heading north. It was a man in camouflage and hiking boots.

She barely registered its appearance with a passing thought _,_ so intent was she on her prey. _He must have been taken while hunting pheasants this early in the morning._

With one final leap, she launched herself across the final ten feet and landed on its back. She pulled its head back, trying to reach its heart beneath all the clothing. It struggled in her hands. With one decisive move, she pulled on its neck with one hand, the other hand with the stake angling down between the ground and its chest. With all her limbs occupied, she seized its struggling neck in her teeth and held on while her stake plunged into its chest. A cloud of dust exploded in her mouth.

Coughing and wiping her mouth, she stood up and walked back to the road where the red taillights of the van waited.

Opening the van door, she asked, "Did you get yours?"

"Just in time to catch the show. Never seen a slayer use her mouth before."

"Never had to before. Not sure how its neck ended up in my mouth." She turned her head to the side, wiping her tongue on her sleeve one last time. She fought to regain control of her heartbeat. _That was a little_ _too_ _much fun_ , she thought.

"Well, now I know why I've never seen that before." Spike looked at her curiously, and then turned his eyes back to the road. The van headed south back to town.

"So far, we've seen these fledges on the south side heading into town. Always thought they were craving townies and young college blood."

Recovering herself, she replied, "Yeah, and now we're seeing them north of town with a yen to get further north fast."

Earlier in the night, Spike had caught the scent of two vamps on two parallel roads. He had dropped her off in the hopes that they could split up, and meet up again later when their two prey were dusted. It had worked, but the strategy was becoming familiar as they kept finding the northbound vampires night after night.

"What's up there?"

"I don't know…more cornfields?"

"There are fewer people outside of town, so blood is not drawing them."

"Maybe they're history buffs, Lewis and Clark visited Spirit Hill back in the …and I can't believe it just occurred to me," she said dumbfounded.

Spike hit the brakes, and turned to her. "What?"

"Turn around!"

He spun the van around in a spray of gravel and floored it.

Several minutes later, they arrived at a parking lot several miles north of town, near acres and acres of frozen wildflower stalks, grasslands, and a solitary hill.

"Back when the Minnesota River ran through this town – the river meanders a lot – Lewis and Clark came to this area before there was a town. The Native Americans had told them of this place where spirits dwell. There isn't much about it in their journals."

"I bet they blew it off as a bit of local legend."

"I bet they weren't here at night."

They sat looking across the fields for a moment. Then, they noticed the movement among the stalks. Vampires. Hundreds of them, moving almost soundlessly around the base of the hill. A slight murmur travelled on the breeze.

The vampire closed his eyes beside her and took a deep breath through the open window. "There's nothing to eat here."

"There were once many deer and pheasant. The state lets ranchers graze here. They probably don't want to anymore."

"Where do they go to ground during the day?" He said, scanning the vast open landscape.

"To ground? I mean, maybe they kick it old school and actually dig themselves a grave."

"Filthy buggers."

"But, why here?"

"Have you ever heard of a hell mouth? Because this looks like one."

"You've made references to one in Sunnydale, but you don't say much about your time there and uh…" She stopped, watching his hands suddenly search his jacket for another smoke.

"Look, I better get you back before they catch your scent, and I have to call Willow. If they're coming, they better hurry. This is more than we can handle."

"Yeah." Margot stared at the spectacle of so many vampires moving, like a hive of ants around a hill. She shuddered as Spike spun the van around, heading back to town.

* * *

The next night, they parked the van at the lot and watched the horde move around the hill. Spike had talked to Willow, and she reminded him that his van was protected by magic. When she had sold him the van so that he could work with the new Midwest slayers so many months ago, she had cast a spell so that his van was treated like a home. Houses need an invite for vampires to enter. He had described the new hell mouth to her, and suddenly he could hear her rummaging around the background throwing things into a suitcase. She assured him that all their loose ends were tied up, and that she, Angel and Faith were on their way.

They were due to arrive around midnight at the small private airfield outside of town, and Margot and Spike had decided to stop at the hill to monitor it and kill some time.

"So, what's up with this hell sphincter? This hell vagina? This hell pustule? I mean, it doesn't appear to have an orifice."

Spike winced at the mangling of magical nomenclature.

"Right now, it doesn't. But it will. Then all hell will literally break loose. Trust me, I know."

"Spike, you have to tell me what I'm getting into." She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly while looking into his eyes. "What happened in Sunnydale?"

"Not now, love." He flicked out his cigarette and looked into her eyes. "Besides we have more immediate concerns. Like these new tactics you're taking. I mean, what's with the teeth? That's my gig."

She closed her eyes, and turned to look intently out the windshield. Slowly, she replied, "I don't know. I keep having these slayer dreams. One is particularly vivid. I am in a supermarket, stealing food, looking at clothes. Then a security guard orders me to leave, and there's a knife in my hand." She paused, swallowing.

Spike moved closer and put one hand on her arm. "Margot."

"Sometimes, I'm stabbing a man in an alley!"

"Slayer, these are dreams of other slayers," he gently told her. "They're not you. The dreams are meant to help you become a slayer."

"Why these ones? Why not the happy ones where slayers get their first stake wrapped up in a pretty package?"

"Because sometimes, a slayer has had experiences in her life that leave her open to the darker memories." He then explained Dana, the last slayer he had grappled with in Los Angeles when he had worked with Angel and his team. She had experienced horrors in her life, and had dreamt of the slayers that Spike had killed.

Margot paused, "So, what, I have to live with this? I am a slayer, and now I have this thing that will wake me up?"

"No, you'll get better. Dana did."

"Why is the slayer part taking over? Am I just a slayer now? Who am I then?"

"No, you are a slayer because of who you are. You can't have one without the other."

"How do you know?"

"Because the best slayers started as the best people."

"Buffy."

He swallowed and turned away. "Yeah, Buffy."

"Spike, you have to tell me about the hell mouth, and if that means you have to talk about Buffy…"

He frowned. "It's a long story."

"Dammit, Spike!" She whipped the door open, ready to walk away.

"Stop, you can't take on all these vamps, and I can't either."

She stood in the doorway. Growls and snarls in the dark became louder as the vampire horde suddenly picked up her scent. Margot stared straight into Spike's eyes.

"Okay," he said, gently beckoning her back into the van.

In the hours before Willow's plane touched down, he told her about Sunnydale and the many times the hell mouth had to be closed. How he had come to town with Drusilla, hoping to only heal her but instead falling for the slayer. How he had tried to kill Buffy again and again, but couldn't. Respect grew into hatred which grew into love for both of them. Drusilla had been long gone by then, knowing that he would follow Buffy into a dusty ending. He had been resurrected and worked with Angel for a while, and then he had headed off to find himself. Eventually, he thought he could face Buffy again. They worked well together in San Francisco, and he even had made friends with the Scoobies. They were content living in a big house all together. They started to really know one another, and Buffy and Spike had fallen in love again.

He stared out into the distance, a cigarette between his teeth. "That should have been enough. But it wasn't. Slayers don't live very long."

Margot swallowed, and placed her hand on the dashboard for a second.

"I didn't want to tell you this part." His eyes were far away. "Buffy lived over a decade as a slayer. By all accounts, that was twice as long as any slayer. But her last fights, she was tired." He threw the cigarette out the window. "Early on in our hate-friendship, I told her that she had a death wish. God, I was so wrong. Slayers don't want to die. It's just that this life is so hard, and they are only mortal. Those final days, I told Buffy to take a day off, catch up on her sleep. But, she couldn't, she was so driven. There was something that couldn't stop. Part of it was the slayer power needing to be released. Part of it was that Buffy couldn't sit idly by while others were suffering. This was the work she had to do. In the last tussle, fighting by her side, I could see her faltering. I tried to hold onto her and take her home. But she'd get a burst of energy and toss me away like a rag doll."

He smiled and glanced at Margot. "Even then, she was stronger than me. Even when she died in her sleep."

They sat for a while, watching the frozen wildflowers sway in the cold winter night.

* * *

Spike and Margot watched the small plane touch down at the snow-covered airfield south of town. The trio trudged across the field and made their way to the awaiting van.

"They don't look like much."

"People often don't know what others are made of, until they see them in action."

Margot nodded.

The van door swung open, and a duffle bag of weapons was tossed in. A red headed woman, a brunette woman, and a large hulking man crawled into the back of the van.

"Jeez, Spike, do you live back here? Your stank hasn't changed much over the years." The brunette woman in leather smirked.

"Some things have, Faith. We can't call him Captain Peroxide anymore," the red headed woman grinned and turned to Margot, "Hi, I'm Willow."

Then she introduced Faith and Angel, the latter crouching sullenly against the wall.

The group drove back to Margot's. Spike pulled into the garage, nodded to the rest of them as they made their way into the house, and he bedded down in his van.

Margot offered some blood to Angel, showed Faith and Angel to the fold-out couch in the living room, and showed Willow to the spare room.

"Thanks for taking us in, Margot," Willow started. "It's hard to find a hotel what with our particular needs."

"I'm grateful you're here. Not just because of the hell pimple, or whatever, but because I have questions."

"I totally get it. Ask away."

"Spike's pretty chatty, but I don't get this council thing."

"Well, you wouldn't get that from Spike. I mean, he has spent the better part of a century trying to kill them. Right before the hell mouth closed in Sunnydale, the original council was blown up by the enemy. We've had to restart the whole business. And it's a business now. Spike told you about Kennedy and her corporation, right?"

"Yeah. But what about the rest?"

"After Buffy, you know…well, we all just split up. And Spike just hit the road. Giles is the last of the original watchers. He's in London with a coven of witches keeping an eye on the eastern hemisphere. Andrew is in Asia with a squad of slayers ready to deploy should something come up; he seems to really like it in Thailand. Buffy's little sister, Dawn, and Xander are in Africa with their squad of slayers. Faith and Angel are in South America with their squad. They seem to understand each other well. They've both struggled with atonement. And I'm in San Francisco keeping an eye on the western hemisphere, like Giles is with the east. I live with Kennedy. We spent some time apart, but I think we're good together. Kennedy is a slayer but she runs the business and keeps the council running worldwide."

"And Spike?"

Willow fidgeted. "Spike is a good guy, but he hasn't always been one, but we believe in him now. He's a lone wolf, though, and he gets restless. Since Buffy, he's been a bit directionless. He used to march around in a long black coat, and bleach his hair, and generally be a badass. He doesn't seem to need that anymore. I think part of it is that he had to prove something to himself for so long, and what with saving the world by dying, I think he's a bit more philosophical about it all."

"Also," she added, "his heart just isn't in the slayage since Buffy. He's never been one to get wrapped into an organization and planning. So, when these vampires starting showing up in the Midwest, we sent him out in the van training slayers as they popped up. But until he came to this little burg, he'd been able to spend a couple weeks with a slayer, train them, and then they're fine by themselves with the few vampires that show up. And then he would move on. But this town, yeah, there's a lot more going on."

* * *

The next night, they arrived at the hell mouth, ready to fight. Faith pulled out a red scythe from the duffle.

"This is what makes me one of the original slayers," she grinned at Margot. "But you can borrow it anytime. Just don't ask me to braid your hair. I'm not into the girly best friend thing."

Angel glanced at the scythe and then turned to Willow, "What's next?"

"Well, I think you all can spread out around the hill and herd the vampires toward it. From what I gather, you've dusted the rest of the area's vampires?"

Spike and Margot nodded.

"Good. While you are doing that, I'll climb the hill and open the hell mouth. Giles and I have been doing some research. The hell mouth was due to open on the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice, which is a week away, but that would have been like a volcano of hell opening. Who knows what beasties would have flown out? But, if I open it just a little, I can keep inside what's waiting to come out, and direct the vampires to march single file inside, like good little first graders. I'm just not going to pack them a lunch, so you all need to keep them from eating me. Okay?"

The group agreed and headed out, packed with weapons. Each took one corner of the hill, and started kicking and pushing the herd toward the mound. At first, the vampires resisted, but after a few were dusted, they glumly trudged up. From below, they saw the red glow and Willow's silhouette as the hell mouth started to open.

The vampires started to shy away from the scene, and the slayers and souled vampires found themselves in a melee. The vampires pushed back, and snarls and fangs erupted from both sides.

Margot paused, seeing Spike for the first time in game face. She knew he was a vampire, but until then, he had never been challenged by the vampires they had fought. Fear about the man with the yellow eyes and protruding forehead took over. She thought she knew him. _A man in an alley with white hair twirled a pool cue around him. The same man twirled a snapped-off bar around him in a subway. The man in another alley twirled a shovel around._ She stepped back, her hands shaking.

Then a vampire snarled next to her and turned its yellow eyes on her. In the shuffle of the many vampire bodies, she started to go down under the crush of the horde. _No, not now._

Crouched at the feet of the vampires, falling beneath their weight, she closed her eyes. Again, her heart slowed. Suddenly, she flew up in a dervish of wooden stakes and axes. In one snap of her left arm, three vampires were staked and dusted. In another snap of her right arm, four vampires were beheaded and dusted. Seeing a group heading toward the vampire she knew, she launched herself in a sideways kick. She landed at the feet of the curly haired vampire, and the other vampires fell like bowling pins. With one swing of her ax, she dusted the fledglings. Seeing her hands bleeding, she dipped the fingertips of her right hand into her bleeding left palm, and stared curiously at it. The red liquid was thick, bright and viscous. She raised her bloody fingertips up to her face and carefully painted red lines down her face.

She then turned to the man she knew and smiled, one corner curling up in a sinister grimace.

"Margot." His voice was soft as he watched her close her eyes again and regain herself. "Love, let's get you back to the van."

What with Margot's sudden attack, the other two fighters had regained control of the horde. As the pair walked back, one gently leading the other, Willow sealed the hell mouth from atop the hill.

Spike and Margot climbed back into the van, and she lay on the shag carpet, her knees bent, swallowing the experience down.

"Spike? That was Dana, right?"

"And a few others, I'd wager."

Sitting up, she took a long pull on a bottle of water, and stared into the eyes of the vampire who crouched alongside her.

"Again. Is this what I am?"

"No. You can get through this. You have no idea what Buffy and Faith had to overcome. You can do this, too."

"How do you know?"

"If I can change, you can." He paused, searching. "You know how demons don't change?"

"Um, yeah, sure."

"Well, I have changed so much. So much. For Buffy, and because of her and since her."

Margot searched his expression for a moment.

"I got my soul for her."

"Spike, no, you were a demon when you decided to change. That's the biggest change, making a choice."

"Exactly!"

"So?" She was puzzled.

"It means that you can change. I can change. We can change."

Quietly, she asked, "Together?"

"Well, maybe not together."

As the group drove back to the airport, each contemplated the evening's events.

* * *

As Angel and Willow walked toward the plane, Faith turned to Margot. "I think you'll find this more useful." She handed the less experienced slayer the red scythe. "Besides, it reminds Angel too much of Buffy. I can't really fight with it. I only pull it out for special occasions like hell mouths. It's just gathering dust in my closet. It makes Angel a little weepy, and I can only handle so much brooding."

Margot, dumbstruck, watched the slayer jump out of the van and run across the tarmac.

"Uh, Angel and Buffy?"

Spike rummaged around his jacket for a smoke. "Yeah, it's a long story."

"Nevermind. Not interested." She leaned back into the seat as Spike drove back to town.

For a week, Margot and Spike drove around, searching for more vampires. One night, they found a disheveled vampire, stumbling northward along a ditch. Margot jumped out to stake him quickly before hopping back in the van.

"Guess he didn't get the memo." She glanced at Spike as he lit another smoke.

They paused each night near Spirit Hill to ensure the hell mouth was closed.

Most nights, they quietly drove down the empty gravel roads around town. There seemed to be nothing more to say and nothing more to do.

"Well, love, looks like it's time for me to go. You've got your work cut out for you with school. You've only got a few months, then you can be a professor. I don't know what retired slayers do, but if you ever need a little cash, Kennedy can throw some security work your way."

"Thanks, Spike. I appreciate it. It's been…"

They smiled at each other in her driveway, the moon overhead, and a long road lay ahead for the vampire.

"Where will you go?"

"Dunno. Guess, I'll see the country a bit. Got some blood on dry ice. I could be on the road for a while."

But as he drove off, he wasn't really sure where to go. So, a few days later, he found himself parking in front of Willow and Kennedy's townhouse in San Francisco.

Willow took him in, let him take a shower, eat some human food for a while, and watch some daytime TV. But a couple weeks later, she sat down next to him on the couch while he intently watched a Manchester United match on her expensive satellite TV package.

"So, what's next?"

"Well, they might make the finals. Dunno. It's just the first round."

"I meant—"

"I know what you meant, Red."

"Spike, it's a pretty quiet time for evil. I don't know why. Maybe they're gearing up something big. So, maybe, it's a good time to take a vacation."

"Sure, I'll bust out the tropical shirt and board shorts. I've been meaning to work on my tan."

"I mean it, Spike. There is no work to do right now, and who knows when we'll get a break again?"

"Yeah, gotta take a rest when you can." He winced.

"Where is the most restful place for you, Spike?"

So, he hit the road again. _Should see some of the country, like I told Margot_. He stopped at the Grand Canyon and threw a cigarette butt in it. He drove to Old Faithful and paced around until it blew. He drove to Devil's Tower, and scaled to the top. Again, he drove off quickly, ready to move on. He drove to Mt. Rushmore and stared at the presidents' faces. _Ponces_ , he thought. He drove to the Corn Palace and thought, _what a disappointment_.

Smoking in the parking lot, he threw down his last smoke. _Bullocks_ , he thought, _obviously, I'm heading her way_.

A couple hours later, her doorbell rang. She had just returned from graduation and was just removing her mortar board. Spike stood in her doorway, his van in her garage. The sun had just set.

"Look, I don't know why I left. I guess I've been sad. I thought all this time it was because I missed Buffy and wasn't ready to move on. And that was true for a while. But it's not anymore. Now I'm upset because…I don't know. Buffy was ready to go. Slayers don't last long, especially with what she had to do. They need a rest. I guess I'm upset that I've accepted this about her. So, maybe I should find some rest in this life instead of the next since I'm not likely to get another, at least not in a nice place like this." His eyes scanned the trees around the house.

"Like Minnesota?"

"No, love, like with you."

So, she invited him in. And they rested.

But, it was only for a day. As they laid on the couch watching an old movie, his cell phone rang. Since it was Willow, he had to answer.

"Balls!" he said, stuffing the phone back in his pants.

Willow had apologized for interrupting his vacation. She told him that there's a disturbance in the force, at least that's how Xander had put it when he called her. Spirit Hill was only a portal to Mt. Kilimanjaro.

"What's at Mt. Kilimanjaro?"

"The demon who gave me back my soul."

Within hours, her plane taxied down the runway outside of town. They climbed aboard and were briefed by Willow.

"The reason there's been nothing to do? Well, the vampires have been leaving and heading to Africa. And the world's magic is in total imbalance." Her hands fluttered at the notion. "Something is up. Xander and Dawn's squad found a very large group around Mt. Kilimanjaro. Giles and I have been in research mode ever since, and now we know what's there. We figured you'd want to be there," she said, nodding at Spike.

"You thought right." Spike added.

* * *

A day later, Willow, Spike and Margot found themselves driving down a secluded road in Tanzania at night. The group was silent. The landscape was so still. Margot had expected to see the large animals of Africa, lions, rhinos, and elephants. _Hell, I'd settle for a wildebeest,_ she thought. Nothing for many hours as they approached the mountain.

"God, they even ate the birds!" Spike scoffed, startling the other two out of their hours-long silence. "What does it take to eat a little songbird? These vampires must be starving."

"Wait, stop, Spike." Willow held her hand up.

He pulled the SUV to a stop. A low murmur could be heard in the distance.

"It's the vampires. It's just like that hive back at the hell mouth." Spike muttered. _This is a much bigger horde, though_ , he thought, keeping the thought to himself.

"I think we better walk from here," Margot whispered.

A half-hour later, they approached a ridge in the moonlight and looked down on the millions of vampires, crawling and writhing across the plain surrounding the mountain.

"Spike," Willow turned to him, "I know this is the place where you got your soul, and that's super personal for you, but I think we need help!"

"No." He said firmly. "This is something Giles and Angel wouldn't understand. I have to make sure nothing happens to—"

"Your soul. You're afraid that you'll lose your soul if we don't handle this right." Margot looked into the vampire's eyes. She loved him and wanted to protect him.

He nodded, his eyes soft.

"Willow, if we can find out why the vampires are here, can we hold off on calling the goon squad?" Margot asked. Spike smiled at her terminology for the two people who tried to kill him in the past.

"Yes, but how?"

Spike turned back to the horde. "Let's go ask them."

The group slowly approached the vampires. The first few they met backed away. Spike and Margot gently raised their hands, afraid to signal that they meant any harm. As they walked past vampire after vampire, they noticed how scrawny they were. With dark shadows under their eyes, their blue veins protruded in the moonlight.

Suddenly, Spike dropped his hands and turned to one. "That's it! Can't anyone of you gits tell me what's going on? And mind you, if any of you gets even a little bit thirsty around my ladies, I'll introduce you to 'William' and 'Bloody', " referring to his two fists.

A small bookish vampire approached. "Uh, sir, we're not thirsty. I mean, we haven't been hungry for a while. I guess the first vampires who arrived were hungry. But, I am sure you noticed there's nothing to eat around here now. But, that's not why we're here."

"Well, what is it?" Spike demanded.

"We're here for the demon. The one that gives back souls. We've been waiting in line for the demon trials. But it's going to take a while."

"All of you?" Spike was confused as the vampire nodded.

Willow was silent for a moment, and then asked, "But, why are all of you here right now?"

"You don't know?" The vampire moved closer despite Spike's growl. Abashed to admit what the horde were all thinking, the small vampire blurted out, "It's because of the slayers. There's too many for us now. It's exhausting. It's hard to find young flesh to tear apart without a slayer busting in." His eyes flicked to Margot. "No offense."

Another vampire piped up. This one looked even more weary. "Look we're just looking for a little peace." He added, "If that means we have to die, so be it. But without a soul, there can be no peace."

"All the world's vampires want to be dusted. That would be coup in the struggle against evil," Willow considered.

Margot sighed and turned to Spike, "Can we talk to the demon?"

"Guess we'll have to," he gruffly replied, "but he's not the chattiest blighter. He makes Angel a regular member of the Algonquin Round Table."

The two redheads smiled. Spike stomped off to the mountain, pleased that he was surrounded by people who got his references, for once.

* * *

Several hours later, after parting the sea of scrawny vampires, they approached the cave entrance. As they got closer, the vampires who had been waiting in line the longest became skinnier and skinnier. Willow and Margot shared a look. They actually felt sorry for them.

The trio walked into the dimly lit passageway. Margot puzzled at the blue light and wondered at its source.

She wondered no more as a demon suddenly appeared around a corner, his eyes glowing greenish-blue.

"You seek me, vampire?" The low voice rumbled from the demon.

"Yeah, I seek you." Spike impatiently blurted, scanning the walls. "I see you've added more finger paintings. Nice touch."

"Oh, Spike." The demon's voice suddenly shot up an octave. "You scared me. I thought you were one of the others. How've you been?"

"Great. Listen, there's a problem."

"Yeah, I know." The demon turned and sat down on a rock in thought.

Willow approached. "Uh, sir, demon. I'm sorry. I don't know your name, Soul Demon. But, uh, it seems to me this is a problem of supply and demand."

Spike snorted. "You've been spending too much time with Kennedy."

"Yeah, so, I was wondering. I mean I had a lot of time to think while we walked through the crowd. Could you maybe just pick it up a little and do a little volume business?"

The demon stared at her blankly.

"I mean could you ensoul a bunch of vampires at one time after, say, a champion did one major trial for you?" Willow brightly wagged her eyebrows at Spike at the mention of a champion.

Spike crumpled his face in dismay and stared at Willow as if to say: _Haven't I done enough?_

The demon stared at the cave floor for a moment considering. "I guess. But, not Spike. He already has a soul. And, here's the real problem. I give them back their souls. Then there's the Shanshu Prophecy that say there will be one vampire with a soul who will get—"

"—To be a real boy, if they play a part in the big apocalypse," Spike interjected.

"And then there's too many, and that throws the world's magic out of whack," the demon added.

"And it won't be just ringing telephones, bloody eyeballs, and rough sex." Spike said.

"Long story, right?" Willow wryly asked him. Margot turned to her and smiled, suddenly liking this witch more and more.

The demon began again, "They seem to be fine with dying, which will happen anyway. You see, well, I might as well tell you everything since it's the apocalypse and all. I'm the reason vampires don't have a soul. When they get turned, they lose their souls. But where does it go? Here. To this cave where I have sat for epochs of time, feeding on souls. If a vampire shows up every once in a while fighting for their soul, that's fine. I have plenty of souls to feed on. And in turn, I feed the planet's vampires. You all need blood, yes. But I feed you all the mystical energy that animates your corpses."

"Just curious." Spike asked. "How many have there been? How many vampires fought for their soul?"

"One. Just the one."

Spike puffed up for a moment. Willow and Margot shot him a look, reminding him of imminent apocalypse.

The demon continued: "So, here's the rub. If I give them back, they get their souls, the world's magic is out of whack, and I die because I don't have any food."

Willow and Margot had the presence of mind to appear sympathetic, even though this ecology of vampire magic was a bit icky.

"Look, I don't mind. I have had a long life. And it means the vampires will die. And because vampires weren't meant to exist, the magic will realign itself, and all will be right with the world. I mean, what do your watchers say? Vampires are an infection? That a demon infected a human with demon blood and whammo, vampires everywhere?"

"I'm sorry, where's the rub?" Margot interjected.

"Sorry?"

"I mean you said, 'here's the rub' a few paragraphs back, and I don't know that you've stated it."

"Oh, yeah, right. Here's the rub: Spike."

They all looked back at him.

For once, Spike looked innocent.

"Me? What about me?" He really didn't know.

"I promised to give you back your soul. And you survived a lot of pain for it. And a deal is a deal. If I die, they die," the demon gestured toward the horde, "and you die," he added nodding to Spike.

They all contemplated this for a moment.

"I don't mind if they die," the demon added. "There's so many of them. There isn't enough time in the cosmos for each of them to make up for what they've done in a demon trial. But, you, Spike, you did it for selfless reasons."

"What about Angel?" Spike asked. "Does he get to die?"

They all rolled their eyes and turned away from him.

"Look I am not always selfless." He shrugged.

"Angel will stay the same," the demon told him. "He has the gypsy curse to sustain him."

The group decided to take a few hours to think and return.

* * *

As they walked back, they puzzled over the new information.

"Hey, what about all the new fledges then?" Margot asked. "Why did those ridiculous 'messiahs' back in Minnesota have to preach about turning so many new vampires? I mean, I like to think what I did back there made some sense."

"I guess it was a ploy to keep the older vampires fed with the mystical energy of the new vampires while they fought for their soul." Willow added, smiling wickedly, "I know, it's like a pyramid scheme!"

"Red, again, you are spending too much time with Kennedy." Spike muttered.

"I know. Not everyone likes her, but she's good for me. And I love her."

Margot turned to her friend, "And that should be enough for anyone."

The group returned to their car just as the sunrise appeared over the ridge. While Spike climbed into the back of the SUV and fell asleep under a heavy tarp, Margot and Willow set up a canvas tent, heavy enough to block the sun if they were there another day, just so that they had some freedom to switch up the sleeping spaces. They knew the odorous perils of sharing a small space with Spike for long periods of time. Besides, there seemed no need to worry about the vampire horde, if they had decided they all wanted to die with a soul. They weren't likely to look for a last supper in the two womens' blood.

"Well, good night. I mean, good morning, Margot. I am going to crash." With that, Willow crawled into the tent and was fast asleep within minutes.

Margot, for her part, couldn't quite sleep yet. _These guys have seen a lot of apocalypses. I guess it's true what they say, that only the crazy ones can sleep at a time like this._

Margot instead walked back to the ridge. Beneath her, the fields approaching the mountain were still. The murmur had ceased. The writhing mass of vampires was replaced by a vast network of graves dimpling the dusty plain. The vampires had gone to ground.

She leaned against a rock and contemplated their options.

She awoke many hours later as the sun set. Over the course of her rest, the answer had come. She trudged back to camp, twisting the knots in her back and shoulders as she approached the SUV. Checking that the sun was fully down, she opened the door and crouched down beside Spike's still form under the tarp. She glanced at the duffle bag she had brought, slowly pulled out the red scythe, and waited for Spike to wake up. Minutes later, one pale foot stretched out and the tarp flipped back to reveal the sleepy vampire.

"Love, be careful with that thing. I like kinkiness, but that's going a bit far. Even for me."

"I know what to do, Spike. C'mon. I'll wake up Willow."

The group convened around the campfire as Margot laid out her plan.

"So, you want me to share your slayer power with Spike," Willow said slowly, contemplating the possibility.

"I know that Spike will need a little demon power if he's going to survive."

"But isn't she going to lose a little of her life? I mean, she's the slayer because of who she is." Spike asked Willow, concerned.

"Yes, she will," Willow answered.

"Spike, you're right. I'm giving you a little slayer power with some of my humanity. I am a slayer because of who I am. But I am also who I am because I am a slayer. These things go hand in hand." She gathered her words. "But, like Dana, things have happened in my life. I wouldn't mind losing a little bit of who I am. It might grant me a little peace, like these vampires. Just a little rest. I think I deserve that. But not a lot." Thinking of all the wonderful things she'd like to do with her degree, she added, "There's work to do."

"Besides, Spike," she continued, "do you have any idea what you gave me when you showed up in the snow? I couldn't ask for help, and you just showed up."

"Yeah, but anyone of us on the council could have done that."

"You chose to, Spike. You did that. Now I'm giving you something."

Spike thought for a moment, looking into Willow's eyes. Willow nodded.

* * *

The trio made their way again across the plain of vampires. Once again, they parted for their emissaries. As they approached the entrance, it occurred to Spike, "Wait, we need a champion."

"Oh yeah, because you can't be it." Willow rolled her eyes.

Spike cracked his shoulders, and considered the options before declaring, "I know just the vamp."

It took only an hour to find her among the crowds, and two hours of bickering with Spike for Harmony to agree to the plan.

"Once again, you just show up. You have another slayer. Really, Spike, I'm doing you a huge favor."

"I'm only asking because you're famous, what with all your reality shows. Thanks for outing all of us other vampires, by the way. Anyways, since you're such a star, you might be the only one the other vampires might accept as their champion. I didn't say you were the best option."

Harmony rolled her eyes and followed him nonetheless.

"What's with the hair anyway, Spike?" She dropped her voice and cooed, "What happened to my Blondie Bear?"

Spike blinked, and then climbed onto a rock to address the crowd. As the only souled vampire present, he held the audience rapt as he laid out the plan, adding that they need only allow Harmony to be their champion.

The crowd of vampires was puzzled. They turned to one another and grumbled. But eventually, it seemed they were on board.

Taking that as his cue, Spike led the group back into the cave.

Turning a corner, once again they were stopped short by the demon.

"You seek me, vampire?" The low voice rumbled.

"Yeah, we seek you." Spike impatiently replied.

"Oh, you," the demon replied, his voice climbing an octave again as he settled back into his normal patter.

"Hi, I'm Harmony. I'm here to, whatever, be a champion? For the other vampires? Just give me the demon trials, and we'll be on our way."

Spike sighed. _Does she even know why she came here? To Africa?_

"Look, Harm. Watch out for the first one. He has a mean right hook—"

"Aww, you do care, my platinum baby," she said softly, approaching Spike.

Before she could get close, the demon interjected, "It's not going to be like that."

The group turned to the demon, who gestured down the tunnel. The group followed him down a ways into a chamber none of them had seen before.

Surprise was an inadequate word for the feeling shared by the group.

They had walked into what appeared to be a tea room, complete with tea cozies, pastel-colored floral furniture and flocked wall paper hanging somewhat haphazardly from the damp cave walls.

"You like?" The demon smiled at the group, obviously proud of himself.

"What the—" Spike exclaimed, his head slowly whirling around the room.

"Harmony, your challenge," the demon addressed the blond vampire, "should you wish to accept it, is to quietly sip tea with me for an hour."

"Son of a-!" Spike was angry. "What about the cockroaches, and Captain Flamey Fists, and the other thing?"

"Spike, this is Harmony's challenge. That was your challenge. You always wanted to fight for, what did you say, 'justice, safety of puppies, and Christmas'? So you had a challenge commensurate with your, uh, personality. This is Harmony's challenge." The demon approached Spike and spoke quietly in his ear, "Besides I don't really want to listen to her complain for days of battle. Moreover, trust me; it will be nearly impossible for her to shut up for an hour."

Spike demurred, pride aside, it would be nice to have this business behind him. He gestured to Willow and Margot. They sat down on the couch.

The demon approached Harmony again, "Won't you join me here?" He gestured to the small table and pulled out a chair for her. "Won't it be nice to have a quiet tea with me?"

He added in his low demon voice, "And it will have to be quiet, understand?"

Harmony nodded, suddenly understanding the challenge.

And for an hour, they all sat, alternating between nervously watching Harmony and trying not to look at her, lest they break her considerable concentration. It was clear to them that this was extremely difficult. The vamp fidgeted, frowned, twirled her hair around a finger, opened and closed her mouth several times in a concerted effort to stay silent. Occasionally, she would remember the tea and would theatrically lift the cup to her lips, congratulating herself on a job well done.

The demon, for his part, just silently sat back in his chair, and smirked at Spike for the entire hour.

Spike accepted his lumps and worked hard to stay silent, realizing that the demon was trying to bait him into grousing, which would only have encouraged Harmony to break her silence and bicker with Spike. _I had black eyes and burns_ , he thought _. She gets tea_.

* * *

When the hour was up, the demon stood up and clapped his hands and announced, "Wasn't that delightful? So, let's get to it. I have vampires to ensoul and kill. And you have … whatever you are about to do about Spike's problem," he added fussily gesturing to Willow and her magic.

"Yes, let us make some magic," Willow agreed, pulling the red scythe out of the duffle bag and placing it on the coffee table in front of herself, Spike and Margot. "If you two would put your hands on the scythe, I'll take care of our part, while Soul Demon does his."

Smiling at each other, Margot nodded at Spike, as their hands joined on the scythe.

The demon clapped his hands again, and announced, "We just need a full magical quorum for this."

Willow paused just as she was about to touch the blade, "Now you tell us?"

"Yeah, demon," Spike explained, "It's just us. What's a quorum? There's a vampire – that's Harmony and I, soulless and ensouled varieties, here. There's a witch, a slayer, and a demon here. What else?"

Willow added, "A quorum includes a god."

"Yeah, demon, we've only known a couple of those."

"The first one was killed by Giles when she switched back into her human form," Willow informed the group. The group cringed at the imagery.

"And the other one, old Smurfette, went back to her demon dimension, as 'bereft of minions' and 'inglorious' as it was," added Spike.

"What else?" Willow considered. "An alien?"

"We only knew one of those, and it was stabbed by Buffy in your second year at UC Sunnydale," Spike nodded toward Willow.

"A werewolf? Sorry, the only one I know is trying to 'control the beast' in Tibet," Willow explained, using air quotes.

"The last one? A watcher?" Spike asked Willow.

"The only original one left is back in England. What do you think, Skype? I don't think I can get a cell phone signal in this cave," She added, scanning the walls.

"Enough!" The demon roared in his low octave demon voice. Gathering himself, he considered the group and added in his conversational voice. "This will do."

Spike and Willow grinned at each other. _That demon just got Scoobied. We can annoy anyone to the point of agreeing with us,_ Spike thought. _Oh, bullocks, I just called myself a Scooby._

"Harmony?" The demon looked at the blond vampire. "Are you ready?"

She took one long unnecessary breath and nodded.

 _By jove_ , Spike thought, _she knows what's she's doing here._

The demon started by offering her one of his hands, and pointing the other down the tunnel passageway toward the vampire horde. Slowly, the blue-green light of his eyes started to dim.

Willow nodded to Margot and Spike as she placed her hands on the scythe. Margot felt a slight electrical charge pass through her. She watched as Willow's hair turned from red to white to black and back to white.

 _It's ok,_ Margot thought, _Willow explained that she would be channeling both a white life force and a dark demon force._

She turned her attention to Spike, who had his head thrown back and was silently mouthing the words, "Ow, ow, ow".

Then she blacked out.

* * *

When she awoke, the cave was dark. No more strange blue-green light. Somehow, she had slipped beneath the coffee table. She felt a little weak. Spike had crumpled beneath the coffee table, too. She nudged him, and he was unresponsive. Alarmed, she sat up and awoke Willow who had collapsed over the scythe, committed to not losing grip on the magic.

"Willow?" Margot croaked, "You have to help me with Spike."

Willow came awake, and the two women bent over the man's body, feeling him for signs of life or unlife.

"Did it work?" Margot asked.

Willow nodded, "I felt it."

Margot slid her hand around his wrist and then closed her eyes. _No, not now._ Slowly, with a little less concentration than she was used to, she opened her senses. A slight shudder moved under her fingers at Spike's pulse point.

She smiled at Willow.

The women glanced around the cave, a pile of dust lay on Harmony's chair. There was no sign of the demon.

"I guess he's the kind that just goes poof!" Willow said.

Spike's eyes fluttered as they pulled his arms onto their shoulders, preparing to carry the former vampire back to the campsite.

Staring at the Harmony-shaped pile of dust, he muttered, "I didn't know she had this noble streak in her. She was pretty loyal, though." He paused, shrugged, and then leaned against the slayer and witch, allowing them to carry him through the night.

As the trio traversed the plain, Willow and Margot glanced at the piles of dust as far as the eye could see.

Eventually, they made it back to the campsite. They placed Spike in the tent, silently agreeing the formerly immortal and now mortal man had earned himself the right to not sleep in the back of a vehicle for a night or two.

His skin was clammy and sweaty as Margot wrapped him in a sleeping bag. Briefly, she noted his rising chest and shallow heartbeat as she curled up beside him and fell asleep.

* * *

As the sun arose and the wind picked up, a dust storm swirled around the campsite, a reminder to the witch and slayer of the vampires they had sacrificed for the life of one man. The man, for his part, dozed quietly throughout the day, unaware.

As the wind died down in the evening, Willow and Margot built a fire and cooked a meal of soup. They checked on Spike, whose fever seemed to have passed. His heartbeats became stronger as the day had progressed. Once, Spike mumbled in his sleep and fidgeted. He turned suddenly and retched. They gently cared for him as he passed into sleep again. When he seemed to be ok, they grinned and joked. _What does one do for a sick ex-vampire? Give him saltines and 7-up? Hold his hair back while he barfs?_

The following morning, Spike awoke to the sunrise. The tent canvas was thick, but he could tell the sun was up.

Weakly, he crawled out of the tent. Finding his legs, he slowly stood up and closed his eyes, waiting for the morning's rays to travel down his face.

Hours later, Margot and Willow found him at the ridgeline, his eyes searching the plain for signs of the vampires and finding none. Willow handed him a cup of soup as he pulled Margot into a hug.

Spike needed a few more days to get his sealegs. Willow was needed back at home. Before she left with a passing park ranger, she reminded the pair that one of Kennedy's planes would be at the airport ready to take them anywhere.

"Don't need it, love," Spike said. "We can fly coach now."

The pair spent their days lying in the sun, eating camp rations, gathering their remaining strength, and planning their next steps.

"Where to, Slayer?" He asked.

"I know just the place," she replied, "Just before we left, I checked my email. There's a job offer. I have been asked to take blood samples from endangered sea turtles in Hawaii for a genetics project."

"So, you want to be a vampire? A little late for that, love."

Margot smiled and continued, "There's this beach on the island of Hawaii. It's next to a volcano. The sand is black with volcanic glass. This is where sea turtles go to rest."

She turned her head and looked at Spike. He had his eyes closed, imagining the place.

"Even in the chaos and destruction of a volcano, the sea turtles can find a place to rest for a while. But, it's not forever because eventually, the turtles will need to brave the waves and rocks and haul themselves back into the ocean."

She looked up into the sky where a solitary bird coasted along, surveying the dead plains.

"There is no end to the work we do, Spike. We can be called up anytime by the council," she added, "but because our powers are diminished, it might not be very often."

Several days later, as they drove back to the airport, Spike checked his cell phone. He had a few bars and decided to make a call.

"Hey, big guy, you ok?" He paused and waited for the vampire to reply. "I was just checking because of the magical apocalypse thing affecting vampires. I'm sure Willow filled you in on the details." Angel's reply must have been short because Spike was able to quickly add: "Oh, and, by the way, that Shanshu bugaboo. It was about me."

He hung up and stuffed the phone back in his pants, smug.

Margot grinned at the man, and added: "Aww, you do care about the big lug."

* * *

This is followed up with part 2, "Just Another Watcher".


End file.
